The only thing that keeps me going is the users. I could watch the corporate HQ burn to the ground in the middle of the night, and feel nothing.
But, my users call in, in a panic, with an intractable problem they just can’t figure out. Sometimes they’re on the edge of tears. Sometimes they’re fearing for their jobs. They have families and homes, and pets and they need this fixed or else bad things are going to happen to them. And I put on my therapist hat, and I talk them down, and I work out the issue, and I solve their problem with their help and input. And we both end the call feeling empowered, and like we’ve accomplished something. I feel like I’ve made someone’s shitass day a little better.
My job isn’t being some wizard. It’s helping someone through a rough patch, dozens of times a day.
“And I said, I don’t care if they lay me off either, because I told, I told Bill that if they move my desk one more time, then, then I’m, I’m quitting, I’m going to quit. And, and I told Don too, because they’ve moved my desk four times already this year, and I used to be over by the window, and I could see the squirrels, and they were merry, but then, they switched from the Swingline to the Boston stapler, but I kept my Swingline stapler because it didn’t bind up as much, and I kept the staples for the Swingline stapler and it’s not okay because if they take my stapler then I’ll set the building on fire…”
